


MCYT advent calendar prompts

by dullrockets



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, No Dialogue, They/Them Pronouns for Toby Smith | Tubbo, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric, and wilbur has 3 as well. i think, schlatt has less than a sentence about him, techno has like 3 sentences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dullrockets/pseuds/dullrockets
Summary: a collection of fics (not connected unless specified so) for the MCYT advent calendar.lmao rip to all the people who think im going to continue this this will stay unfinished until the end of time
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, no - Relationship
Comments: 31
Kudos: 162
Collections: MCYT Advent Calendar Prompts 2020





	1. everyone is gone (why didn't they say goodbye?)

**Author's Note:**

> day one: christmas market
> 
> warnings: graphic (ish? there is like a line about blood and two about dead bodies) depictions of death/violence, implied major character death
> 
> beta read (mostly) by [nic_takes_Ls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic_jay/pseuds/nic_takes_Ls) :)
> 
> in which tommy is at the festival, and expects an explosion (that never happens. something else does, though).

The festival was coming up. It was today, actually. He wasn’t scared. He couldn’t be scared. He could talk Wilbur out of this, he could stop it- he could stop _him_. He could, he could, he _could_. Optimism was the only way, it seemed.

He was on the roof of a building. The time had flown by, what, with Wilbur’s monologuing and trying to prepare. Wilbur was next to him, and they were watching a dunking booth. Techno was drowning; Or, everyone thought he was. He knew Techno would never die to something as dumb as drowning. As he expected, Techno got out. They were boxing now; He almost felt left out.

Then he remembered he wasn’t invited, and that just made him feel worse. Wilbur was muttering things to himself, he noted, though he couldn’t make out any of the words. He hoped he was talking about something other than dynamite, though it was useless. He could feel Tubbo’s wide, blue eyes on him. They were brighter than his, according to Wilbur, though that was months ago and he personally thought his own eyes were quite blue, not a dull grey. Though, he didn’t know what years of constant war did to irises.

Tubbo’s speech was starting. Schlatt handed the microphone to them, and they cleared their throat. It was taking far too long, and the boy didn’t like it at all. There was a wide smile on Schlatt’s face (Wilbur’s too, if he looked his way, which he didn’t), and it worried him. Luckily, his ignorant mind brushed it off as being proud of his ‘right hand man,’ and continued to watch. 

Lettuce was a horrible analogy for L’manberg, in his opinion.

He hated the fact that he still held onto his ender pearl, that it was aimed towards the stage, just in case. Why was Schlatt encasing his best friend in concrete? Why was Techno, his _brother_ , holding up a crossbow to their chest? Everything was happening so fast, and then, all of the sudden, there were booms, and his friend was dying, and he threw the pearl before Wilbur could stop him.

With anger that came from nowhere, he plunged his sword into Techno’s armour, barely cracking it but still getting his attention. Which was bad, actually, since if he was sparring with his brother, he’d definitely lose. But apparently Techno had a bit of mercy, since he just looked at him with pity and walked towards the crowd, which he immediately started firing fireworks into. There was so much screaming, yet he only heard Tubbo’s slow breathing, that suddenly... Stopped. 

Why did it stop? His friend was alive, why were they not breathing? He was starting to panic, now, _why weren’t they breathing_? His eyes flicked up, and with a panic that turned into a dilemma within two seconds, ducked into the concrete box and dumped his water bucket out onto the ground, and _hoped_.

It must’ve worked, too, because he didn’t hear any explosions. Where was Wilbur? He couldn’t tell. He was tired. He didn’t dare close his eyes, though. Not when Tubbo wasn’t breathing. He grabbed a potion of regeneration with a shaky hand, and splashed it on them. He internally wished for someone to find him, to comfort him, to say that it would be alright. But, as expected, that person never came.

After a while of silent sobs, the air was quiet. There were no more screams of pain, or small splashes of blood trickling to the floor. There was silence. The boy was too afraid to look up, and see what he’d find, but he was also terrified of staying there, not brave enough to see anything. He didn’t want to be seen like this. In his mind, getting up seemed like the better choice.

It was not the better choice. He knew this as soon as he laid eyes on the pile of bodies and all the _blood_. He carefully put Tubbo down, and got out of the box. Was this considered a massacre? He certainly thought so. The stalls were all empty, but all the stock was still in there. It was like a ghost town. He supposed it was, now that he couldn’t find any survivors.

There was a singular teddy bear that stood out to him. It was so goddamn worn, and looked to be handmade, but he looked (uselessly) both ways, and when nobody was there, he grabbed it and shoved it into his inventory, before continuing to look at the market. There was... A bunch of stuff, actually, he assumed it would be a festival, but not _this_ level. There was- Was that turkey?- so much, and it was all different.

He didn’t care either way, and ducked out of the lonely marketplace, off to hide somewhere. With his fingerprints everywhere, he doubted he wouldn’t be blamed for it. Maybe he’d get charged for stealing a teddy bear instead. That would be funny.

Tommy wondered why there was a porcelain mask on one of the corpses when he looked behind him one last time.


	2. i'm not alone (i'm alone with my friend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day two: candy canes
> 
> warnings: there is one line about implied manipulation, and this is based on my theories for what's gonna happen so i guess there may be spoilers for the december second stream? nothing major though. ALSO EVERYTHING THAT RANBOO AND TOMMY DO IS STRICTLY PLATONIC WE ALL HAVE CUDDLE SESSIONS WITH OUR HOMIES
> 
> hahah this chapter isn't beta read
> 
> au where tommy gets exiled and ranboo comes with him :)

Tommy grabbed the candy cane, grinning at Ranboo. “Give it up! It’s mine now.”

“Never! I have a surprise up my sleeve anyway-” He reached into his suit pocket, gloved hand pulling out another one, except it was green and brown striped, instead of the classic peppermint. “-Beat that!”

“How could you!” Tommy half-heartedly yelled back, obviously joking as he peeled the clear wrapper off his own candy cane, accidentally snapping it. “Shit,”

“I win.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, mumbling an agreement before getting up from the floor-- the cave they were in didn’t really have built-in seating-- and walking over to the entrance, taking some spare cobble he had in his inventory and blocking them inside. It left only the light of a few torches, but it was good enough. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, big man?”

“I’m glad I came with you. I don’t think you’d be sane if you were exiled alone.” He offered a smile, and Tommy almost went to argue, though it would be useless, because they both knew it was true.

“Thank- Thanks, Ranboo.” Wow. It got emotional. Very fast. He took this to his advantage, though, grabbing the green-striped candy cane with a lop-sided grin and sprinting to the corner, ripping the seal off, the candy barely staying together, and shoving it in his mouth. He saw the middle finger being given to him with a smile, and he laughed with him at his newly acquired victory. He hoped Ranboo was doing that responsible-person chuckle with him, and not at him.

After the laughs died out, and the cave was quiet, it felt eerily familiar to Pogtopia. _That wasn’t the best time_ , he decided as he laid down. _It was hard to evade Wilbur’s notice when I snuck out to see Tubbo. That and he always got mad at me for waking him up with my cries. I always thought I was silent._ But, even if he was exiled, _again_ , he had Ranboo. He just had to hope he wouldn’t betray him.

If he did, he wouldn’t be surprised. He could count on one hand the number of people who he trusted and hadn’t betrayed him. Ranboo, Niki, Phil. He was pretty sure that was it. Maybe, soon, he’d have to take Phil off the list in a heartbreaking moment. That would probably suck. What, all of his family betraying him at one point or another? Maybe it wasn’t technically a “betrayal,” but he could call it that, since his heart was broken and everything always went to shit.

Coming to terms with all these betrayals was hard. He wasn’t even past the 16th, not really. He didn’t even realize the tears running down his face until Ranboo came to his spot on the floor— it was a sleeping bag, actually, but it felt just as hard and cold as any other part of the cave— and wiped the tears off his face. His expression was filled with concern. _It was at that moment that he decided that he was really, really dumb when he said that this was like Pogtopia._

He knew that he was correct, too, in saying that he was dumb, when Ranboo started asking him if he was alright, and engulfing him in a hug— not a scary one, not one that trapped him in it, that left him sobbing into the crook of Wilbur’s neck as he gave fake reassurances and told him how annoying he was— filled with comfort. He knew he’d probably get teased about being clingy later, but he didn’t care, he just wrapped his arms around him and began to sob harder.

The night had started off so happy, and lighthearted, and he probably ruined both of their evenings (and Ranboo’s suit, he couldn’t imagine it getting away clean with all the tears staining it), but he just _didn’t care_ , because he was wrapped in warmth and happiness, and his friend was right there, and it was just too perfect. His cries began to lessen, becoming hiccups, and not as many tears rolled down his cheeks. His hold on Ranboo was not any less tight, and vice versa.

Tommy was drifting away into the peaceful void of sleep, he could tell by the way his eyelids drooped, and how he relied almost fully on Ranboo’s chest to stay the slightest bit upright. Neither boys minded, one feeling content falling asleep, the other feeling content letting him fall asleep. Soon enough, though, he started to yawn more and more often, and, pulling a blanket out from under him and Tommy, closed his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him. He forgot completely about the two other candy canes in his suit pocket. Maybe, if Tommy woke up earlier than him, he would notice and take them. He’d just have to brag about _his_ victory the next morning.

He also forgot (though he'd never know) about the campfire still burning, dangerously close to the chest full of materials (most notably, paper and wood). If it hadn’t been for the figure— adorned in a blood red robe— that stamped it out, the fire would’ve almost certainly spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))


	3. fights in the snow (while i watch in the corner)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day three: snow
> 
> warnings: angst, implied spoilers for the december 2nd stream, self deprecation
> 
> this chapter was made in like 2 hours in a discord call with my friend ([FandomCaptive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomCaptive/pseuds/FandomCaptive))
> 
> in which tommy watches the members of the dream smp have a snowball fight (himself and ranboo excluded)

Tommy was staring, eyes failing to close even if the snowflakes were dangerously close to coming into his eyes. He’d been exiled for almost a year now, if he could recall correctly, and if the seasons were anything to go on. Time went by so slow, yet so quick, and Tommy, being Tommy, wasn’t exactly the best at keeping time. He rubbed his eyes that happened to be watering from the wind. He refrained from yawning, because he knew that if people saw him, he’d almost certainly be injured; Or even worse, killed.

He sunk further into Ranboo’s side, hoping he didn’t mention the way he clung to him. The L’manbergians were having what looked to be a snowball fight. He couldn’t tell who else was there, but it seemed to be more than just L’manberg. He could try, if he wanted, to make out the faces. But he didn’t, and half of his vision was clouded up by his friend’s side. He was fairly certain Ranboo was wearing a coat over his business suit, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything felt the same, _cold_.

“You okay?” He murmured, looking at Tommy with concern. He simply shook his head with a small smile, latching onto Ranboo’s (coat? Suit?) jacket with an intensity he didn’t even know he had. He couldn’t have him leave. Tommy knew he was respected amongst _them_. He wasn’t. He was seen as a disgrace. Even if any of them had remorse for him (which they didn’t), they wouldn’t let him back in. All he did was cause wars for that country anyway.

And he was doing fine alone! Better than fine, even. Great! He was surviving, he wasn’t insane. And sure, he missed his friends, a lot, and he didn’t have Cat (the best disc, in his opinion) yet, and his friends _still_ hated him for saying that his _discs_ , his life, the only remains of his brothers being brothers (Wilbur gave him Cat. It was for Christmas, after he saw Tommy staring at the jukebox they had (and that one, broken disc that everyone disliked with a passion). He remembered listening to it with Wilbur after the bad days, when he stomped his feet all the way up the stairs after a screaming match and could only hug his brother and sob into his arms after).

Still, even if he cried himself to sleep listening to Mellohi, even if a lot of the nights, Ranboo had to come and hug him and let him ruin his suit with snot and tears, even if Tommy hated the way he was, even if Dream’s mask plagued his dreams (hah, dreams), he was _fine_. He was not insane. He was not in a bad spot (well, he was, but he didn't want to think about it that way). He was perfectly normal. He was just... More alone than before. And that was good! Change is something he could deal with. He _had_ to, and he _had_ been for the past year.

He decided to stop thinking about things like that, decided to stop painting himself as the protagonist, decided to look at it from another perspective. Okay, another perspective. Tubbo’s? He could work with that. Tubbo was his friend, became the president, had stuff to deal with other than a friend who was still immature, acting as if the wars he’d fought in, _died_ in, never happened. He could see why Tubbo exiled him. He _couldn’t_ see why Tubbo forced him out with a straight face. Why Tubbo acted as if he was just a normal convicted citizen, not his best friend.

Was he that annoying? So cruel, so mean, so heartless, that his only (ex)best friend didn’t even think of him as a friend- no, forget that, brother? He supposed he was. No tears threatened to come down his face, not even one. He wasn’t new to these realizations. He’d had so, so many before. He just gazed past where the obsidian walls of the past used to be, onwards to the snowball fight he wasn’t invited to (he wasn’t even invited to watch, he had to sneak in, watch from the hill, and hope Ranboo in his midnight black coat didn’t sell them out).

No one in the ‘war’ had seen him yet, and he was glad for that. He decided that, fuck it, he’d pick out faces, see if he recognized them. Tubbo was hiding in the crater, peeking up once or twice to throw a snowball. Technoblade and Philza were standing in the corner, just far enough to be overlooked by the ‘soldiers.’ Hah. It was like the revolutionary war, except peaceful, and happy. He knew that it would be the opposite if he joined in, probably _the_ revolutionary war, for all he knew.

He saw- Well, now that he thought about it, and looked a tad bit closer, he saw _everyone_ there, obviously excluding him and Ranboo. Wow. That sucked; At least the taller didn’t choose to join them, he didn’t know how he’d cope with being alone in the snow. He wasn’t even prepared for the winter, he was only wearing a white hoodie and his signature red and white shirt (though it was stained with crimson blood) under it. Maybe, if he wasn’t holding onto Ranboo so tightly, he _would_ leave, and that thought terrified him.

“Please, don’t leave,” he asked (well, he more or less begged), in a voice barely above a whisper. The tears still _did. Not. Come._ He wasn’t surprised.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I? You don’t deserve another betrayal.”

And he smiled at Tommy. That made him feel secure, it made him feel safe, just like how Wilbur used to. Before the wars, when he was young. Too late for that, he supposed. He didn’t realize that quite a few people were staring at the black blob glaring daggers at the crowd while hugging him. He didn’t realize that his best friend left the scene to go cry, or that Phil (he didn’t even keep in touch, why was he so heartbroken?) went to go comfort him, equally sad.

And he definitely didn’t realize the quiet, cruel laughs of the masked man, disguised by the wind, the same chuckles that haunted him. Well, he wouldn’t realize them until the next night, where he’d be trapped in a nightmare for what seemed like an eternity, until he was either shaken awake by Ranboo, or woke up in a cold sweat, alone, screaming his throat raw. But that was for the night. Not now, when he was engulfed in comfort by his only friend, the only person he still trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahrhjernds i promise there will be fluff in this i swear-


	4. why do i decorate for christmas (when no one will see)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day four: wreath
> 
> warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE EXILE STREAM, other than that none that i can see, but it is pretty sad
> 
> not beta read i speedran this in like 30 minutes
> 
> in which tommy doesn't know why ghostbur is decorating logsted for christmas

Logsted was coming together, in his opinion. It wasn’t big, it was actually rather small, and really, really pathetic, but it was his. Well, his and Ghostbur’s. But, well, it was technically his, because he was the only one alive (he was barely alive, he only had one life anyway). He hadn’t expected to have to stay in it so long, he supposed, seeing as the first snows were falling and he was still there, in that damn meadow.

“Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey, Ghostbur...”

“I made this wreath, do you like it? I think it’s pretty, it’ll be such a nice addition to Logstedshire!”

“Yeah, it, uhm- It looks nice.”

He was struggling to talk today. His voice was perfectly fine, he’d been talking a lot the past few- Days? Weeks? Months? He didn’t actually know. He would ask Ghostbur, but he knew Ghostbur was just as confused as him, if not more. He walked with him to the entrance, where a small tent was propped up (barely staying up, as well) with a crafting table inside. He was unsure if that would make it through the winter. He was unsure if _he_ would make it through the winter.

“I’m not finished with it. Do you want to help me put the final decorations on?”

Tommy offered a smile in response, nodding and unzipping the tent entrance. He was wearing a wool coat, though that did little to block the cold out from inside. He didn’t know why he held open the “door” for Ghostbur. He was dead, he could phase through the tent like it was air. He was going to be dead soon, too, he thought, bitter that he would die a disgrace and have the only funeral attendee be another dead person.

The wreath was sat on the crafting table, and there was a red ribbon (it could barely be called a ribbon, Ghostbur just happened to dye a sheep’s wool red and stretch it out into something similar to twine. He was so, so thankful for Ghostbur. He could (though Tommy didn’t know how) disappear, and come back a few hours (sometimes days. Then he’d have to stay by Tommy’s side for at least a week before he’d let him leave. He didn’t leave for more than two days at a time after that) later. 

He’d somehow have all the news about L’Manberg and the Dream SMP. He said that Ranboo wanted to come visit them on tour soon (after all, they were the Lads on Tour, according to Ghostbur). The ghost also came back with food, sometimes he said it was from Niki, and other times he said it was from Dream. After seeing Dream’s steak being burned in fire and Tommy staring at it with a smile, he never said Dream sent him back with food.

The wreath was still there, on the table. He didn’t understand why Ghostbur was bothering with it. He told him that the Dream SMP had a huge christmas tree in the community house, and that L’manberg had christmas lights on all the houses, but no one was at Logsted, so why bother? He certainly didn’t think it was wise to waste time, energy, and materials on something only he (and a ghost) would see.

Tommy was . The wreath was finished. Ghostbur was happy, too happy. And Logsted was lit up with Christmas lights, never to be seen by any eyes other than pairs belonging to a broken boy and a dead man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	5. i forgot to say i love you (nothing a sharpie can't fix)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day five: christmas cards
> 
> warnings: panic, and i'm pretty sure thats it.
> 
> not beta read we die like tommy inevitably will
> 
> (sbi au in which wilbur is 17, techno is 16, tommy is 6, and phil is their father) in which tommy messes up his christmas card and gets upset about it. comfort ensues

Tommy was happy. He knew because a week before, his dad told him that when he felt warm, and safe, and all fuzzy inside, he was happy. After his dad left, his older brother told him that he didn’t have to feel happy. His younger-than-his-oldest-brother-but-still-older-than-him brother told him that he could feel happy and not feel safe sometimes (he also said that he hoped Tommy always felt safe, and he didn’t know why he wouldn’t).

It wasn’t snowing. He would complain, but he was already really, _really_ cold and he doubted that his family would be happy with his whining. Tommy didn’t like being cold. It reminded him of when he was alone, when Wilbur couldn’t come comfort him (he was always cold, too, he remembered), or when Dad was too busy to notice his crying (not that he blamed him, his dad was really busy! But he missed him. A lot).

So, his small, mittened hands latched onto the only source of warmth, Tech. He was going to the shops with him, like a man should (he was 6, but in his opinion, that was very old and therefore he was very mature). Techno looked at him, confused, before something probably clicked in his head and he smiled, picking him up (“Techy, I can walk!”) with relative ease and trapping him in a warm hug.

He would’ve protested, but he was just so warm and safe and happy that he could feel his eyelids drooping down. Which was probably not good, seeing as if he fell asleep, he couldn’t go shopping with his brother. But closing his eyes was just so tempting, and after maybe 10 seconds (that felt like 5 minutes, in his opinion), he decided if he just closed his eyes, and didn’t actually sleep, he’d still get to go.

“Tommy?” Techno murmured, wondering if he was actually sleeping or not. When there was no response for around a minute, he decided that _fuck it, he’s asleep, so even though he was really excited about shopping, I gotta do it myself_. His brother looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, or maybe he was biased, because he had the honor of holding his brother and keeping him warm, until they got back from the shops.

-

Something fluffy was holding him. Maybe he was holding something fluffy? He couldn’t tell. _It’s dark_ , he thought to himself, before realizing that his eyes were closed, and forcing them open with all the might he had in the world. And what he saw, was honestly? Surprising. He wasn’t at the shops, which made him kind of sad, but he was engulfed in warmth. He looked to his right, and he saw the fluffy, brown hair of his brother, and at that moment he realized there was a too-big beanie atop his head. Then he looked down, a bit, and saw a clipboard in his brother’s hands. It had a Christmas card on it, and he attempted to take it, only really succeeding in making little grabby fists towards him. 

Wilbur looked up and at the source of movement in surprise, before carefully setting down the clipboard (why the card had his name on the front, Tommy didn’t know) and smiling.

“Do you want to write a card for your family, Tommy?”

“Can I write one for Tubbo, too?”

“Of course,” he said, taking another clipboard (this one was the same as the blue one, except it was a translucent red) and grabbing two cards. One for Tubbo, and one for his family, according to Wil. He took the card and a permanent marker, and started thinking of what to say. And then, his mind struck with an idea, and he got to work.

‘ _Deer Tubbo,_

_Hey Tubbo! Im writing this Christmas Card for you :D Marry Christmas! I hope you get lots of presents this year and that Santa thinks youve been nice. Wich you have been nice. And I hope you like my gift for you.  
Sinseerley, Tommy_’

And then, panic set in, because he wrote the ending too close to the main text, and he didn’t add an I love you, and what if Tubbo thought he didn’t love him because he didn’t say he loved him? Tubbo was like a third brother, he _had_ to know that he loved him! What if he misspelled something (everything looked like it was spelled correctly, but sometimes things were spelled weird, like Christmas) and Tubbo thought he was dumb?

All the things that could happen clouded his mind, and before long, tears were freely rolling down his cheeks, and he was trying to be quiet, but his sniffles and poorly-hidden sobs were just too loud, and Wilbur quickly saw and wrapped him in a hug with his arms (how were they so long?), a look of concern painted all over his shining brown eyes.

“Tommy, what’s wrong?”

“I- I messed u-up the card, and- and now I thin- I think Tubbo hates me!” He sniffled really loudly, and that probably alerted Dad and Tech, because they rushed over and joined in the hug.

“Wil- Wilby, what if he hates me!? What if- What if we can’t be friends anymore?”

“No, no, don’t worry, Toms, he doesn’t hate you. I would know. I’m your super smart older brother, right?”

“But- But what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not, I promise. Do you want me to read your card and see if anythings wrong with it?”

Tommy nodded, handing him the card and launching himself into his dad. He looked away, not wanting to see the card for even a second longer. Wilbur looked over the card, fixing the frequent spelling errors now and then and closing the card after around a minute.

“I think it looks great. What else do you want to add?”

“I forgot to- to say I love you... And what if now-”

“Don’t worry, Tommy, there’s this thing in letters called ‘P.S.’ which you can add an extra message on if it didn’t fit in the card!” To prove his point, he took the sharpie pen Tommy had in his hands and wrote exactly what Tommy said aloud.

By then, he had calmed down, and thanked Wilbur for his help. The next day, he gave his card to Tubbo, who promptly opened it, and hugged him really tight (he hugged him tighter, though)!

‘ _P.S.  
I love you! You’re like another one of my brothers, except better :)_’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D we're getting closer to the fluff woo


	6. a small fic idea (where platonic cuddles ensue because i said so)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day six: hallmark movies
> 
> warnings: none this is literally just a fic idea bc im tired
> 
> you think this is beta read? i made this in 10 minutes idk what this is anymore
> 
> in which nothing happens because its a fic idea. might edit it later with the actual fic if i feel up to it

hello yes it is me editor tommie with my fic idea (feel free to write this lol)

so basically dream flies out to london right (covid doesnt exist because fuck covid)? and when he gets there he is engulfed in a group hug by george, sapnap (who flew out the day before), and none other than the gremlin child. yes yes this is good so far but it gets much better because then he learns that they're all staying at

a: a hotel (george, sapnap, and dream probably share a room, as well as wilbur, philza, techno, and maybe tubbo+tommy (and it is important to me that tommy takes the couch)

b: george's house (which is probably not the best idea bc it would be hard to fit 8 people there, but who knows maybe george is a millionaire with a mansion or smth)

and they reenact a hallmark movie in the most funny, cringey way possible bc i said so. and clingyinnitTM is going to be a thing (also bc i said so). platonic cuddle party ensues. 

they definitely cry a little when dream has to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. sorry this isnt an actual chapter but. hopefully it will be soon


	7. i'm brave, i'm strong (and i'm afraid of the dark)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day seven: lights
> 
> warnings: food mentions, a line about mentioned running away, and some nice hurt/comfort for the soul
> 
> i made this in like 2 hours
> 
> in which techno is afraid of the dark (and so is tommy)

Technoblade had a fear. It wasn’t Dream, or losing his fame (though things like that did scare him quite a bit when he was up at night). No, the one and only Technoblade was scared of the dark.

_Techno was curled into a ball, under his brand new bed. It had been an early christmas gift, and there was just enough space he could easily crawl under and hide the ‘entrance’ with a blanket or two, leaving just him and a small flashlight. It was dark in his room, outside of his bed cave thing, too dark. Dad had offered him a night light the day before, but he had said “-no thank you, Dad! I’ll be fine!” Boy did he regret it now. The ‘silently crying child under a bed’ look did not fit him, in his opinion._

_Techno heard the door to his room open, and he froze. He should’ve turned the light off, he really should’ve. But, he didn’t, and it left a concerned Phil to lay down on his stomach and move a blanket onto the floor._

_“Techno? Are you alright?”_

_“I’m fine,” he replied, though the shake in his voice and the way he was, y’know, under the bed. Without another word, Phil quickly scooted under the bed, engulfing his son in a hug. Techno leaned into the comfort, whispering something about being afraid of the dark. His father seemed to understand immediately, telling him about that night light, how it was in his room if he needed it._

_That day was the first time Techno had said “I love you” outright to his dad, and it was actually the second time Techno had said the phrase (so short but so meaningful) in his life, as he hadn’t said it to any foster family, and only once to his real parents (he was so, so young, and they were so, so kind). Techno was crying, and Phil had silent (but loving) tears rolling down his cheeks, not that he could tell._

_Neither commented on the new night light that found a home in the outlet in his room. And Technoblade thought that that was okay._

He was making baked potatoes. It was the beginning winter, but with the amount of food (it was just potatoes, but he didn’t mind) they had, they would be fine. Wilbur had fled to who-knows-where, and in all honesty? He didn’t think he’d be back. He couldn’t blame him. Many times had he tried (and even succeeded. But Phil always found him) to run away. When it all became too much, and all he could do to feel better was sneak out the window and run for his life.

He guessed he forgot that Wilbur was an adult, and he was too. Phil was gone, too, off on some trip where he only had one life, and if he failed to use it wisely, his builds would be demolished, leaving only the memories left. He didn’t understand; He’d much rather go head-first into useless fights, where the only things that mattered were the numbers. Or charging into useless battles with potatoes as golden apples, and hoes as swords.

No matter the reasoning, though, he was alone with his younger brother. Who was in his room. Recently, Tommy had been refusing to eat the potatoes, which Techno wasn’t a big fan of. After all, if he didn’t have the potatoes, he didn’t get much food. And considering he wouldn’t eat steak? Tommy had been eating less and less. So, he went all the way to the village to buy something special (since Tommy deserved it, and honestly? He deserved the world, and if Techno could help it, he would get the world).

Knocked once, nothing. Knocked twice, nothing. Knocked thrice, and there was soft crying as his brother yelled “Go away!” Okay. He could work with that. He probably couldn’t, but optimism was fine, right?

“Tommy, I brought you some food. Chicken and carrots,” he said, opening the door with a soft _click_.

His brother was nowhere to be found, which worried him, until he strained his ears. It wasn’t that hard to find the source of the crying, and the dark room that basically deemed his eyes useless, it was even easier. He carefully set the plate down, crouching down to get a better look at the sad blob that was Tommy. He felt his shoulders ease (he didn’t even know they were tense) at the sight of him, still there, with the window firmly shut.

“Tech- Techno?” The shake was clear in his voice, and it painfully reminded him of that fateful day, that was years ago, when Phil had found him. He supposed it really was the same thing; Just with different people.

“Yeah, Toms, its me,” he said, crawling under, “Would you like a hug?”

After seeing a nod, he grinned, attacking him with comfort, charging into a battle of warmth. Tommy smiled, too, the flashlight barely illuminating his dimples. Maybe half an hour later, with the plate on the counter deserted, his brother was sound asleep, latching onto his brother in his unconsciousness. It warmed Techno’s heart, and he let sleep overtake him as well.

(When Tubbo came over the next day for the weekly breakfasts, and saw their limbs entangled with the other’s, he didn’t say anything, just quickly snapped a photo and left.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting into the fluff territory

**Author's Note:**

> wow that was. sad
> 
> tell me if i made you cry i tried my best


End file.
